


take care of it

by civillove



Series: plans wrapped in rubber bands [27]
Category: Good Girls (TV)
Genre: Episode Fix-it, Episode Related, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:27:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23094823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/civillove/pseuds/civillove
Summary: Inspired by 3.04 'The Eye in Survivor'. Really just wanted brio in bars and: 1) Rio trying to get Beth to stop drinking, and 2) Rio being threatening. Basically, I’m taking elements from the last episode and turning them on their head with a brio lens.--fits into 'plans wrapped in rubber bands' universe
Relationships: Beth Boland/Rio
Series: plans wrapped in rubber bands [27]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1347943
Comments: 16
Kudos: 162





	take care of it

**Author's Note:**

> what’s better than an episode related re-write amirite? thanks lauren for the chats! xo This probably falls after my ‘rubber band’ series, which makes brio an established somethin’.

Beth knows that just because she’s got things figured out with Rio, does _not_ mean everything within her business goes smoothly. Sometimes deals fall through, sometimes clients are unreliable, sometimes people won’t work with her because she doesn’t look like she _fits_ into this world.

And maybe she doesn’t, not really, not like Rio does—but she thought that’s what made her a great commodity. She blends in in a good way, she doesn’t draw attention, she doesn’t have a priors sheet, she lives in a white-picket fence neighborhood and takes her kids to soccer and plays Bingo with the older community at a local church sometimes on Sundays. She’s capable of flying under the radar and those should be reasons to work with her. Even moreso because underneath all that; she’s organized, quick on her feet and getting very good at carrying out successful plans that make them a _lot_ of money. Right under the nose of the FBI for a while, if she wants to brag.

She sighs softly and twirls her bourbon glass as she sits at a bar near the dealership, picking it up and taking a quick sip. The liquid burns her throat and she almost coughs, but doesn’t, and waves for the bartender to pour her another.

None of that seems to be good enough. At least three out of four meetings Rio’s set up for her lately, clients keep backing out. She thought the first, maybe even the second time, was some sort of fluke because her and her partner have been doing pretty decent business for themselves—especially when they handled meetings together.

When Beth’s by herself, she seems to have most of the problems.

_“He just drove off.” Beth says as she walks into Rio’s apartment, practically slamming the door closed._

_Rio sits up from his couch, setting his phone down so he can give her his full attention. His eyebrows crinkle together in confusion because, “What?”_

_“I showed up at the right address, I was even ten minutes early!” She states, dropping the duffle of bills that need washed. She was supposed to get a bag full of green rubber-banded cash in exchange. Her voice is a little high pitched at the end, making Rio narrow his eyes but she’s_ upset _. “He took one look at me and drove off.”_

_He glances down at the bag at her feet, blinking a moment as he tries to put two and two together—he doesn’t seem to get it either. He hums under his breath, running his hand over the lower half of his face before moving to sit on the edge of the couch._

_His elbows rest on his knees as he looks up at her, “This is the second time.”_

_Beth clamps down on a wave of annoyance when he states the obvious; pissing him off is not going to help the conversation. “Don’t you think I know that?” She asks, her tone as even as it can be without going overboard. She takes in a deep breath, trying to soothe frazzled nerves. Her hands fall to her hips, shaking her head as her gaze ticks to the phone to his hands, trying to distract herself._

_Her eyes follow the veins of his hands, up his arm, to his shoulder and neck and finally rest on his face. His features are calm, contemplative, watching her like he’s trying to read words printed underneath her skin._

_“What did you tell him about me?_

_“What do you mean?” He asks, clasping his hands together and lacing his fingers. “I told him you’re my partner.”_

_“I mean about what I look like.” She says quickly, taking her jacket off to throw on a chair nearby the couch._

_A twitch of a smile pulls at the corners of Rio’s lips, “Nah, this question feels like a trap.”_

_“I’m serious.” She all but snaps and he nods; which just fuels her fire._

_“Oh me too. I ain’t walkin’ into that one.” He leans back against the couch, “Not with your panties all in a twist like this.”_

_“Don’t—” She bites down on the inside of her cheeks and Rio_ smiles _, the dick, purposely licking his lips._

 _“What? Don’t talk about your panties? Why not?” His gaze travels like melted wax down her body, centering at her waist, burrowing there and causing heat to travel_ down _._

 _Beth shakes her head and looks away from him, because she’s trying to have a conversation, she’s_ frustrated _and she’s struggling to voice concerns when all he wants to do is…talk about her underwear. Which, there are worst tactics but…doesn’t this bother him? That almost every time he sets up a meet with someone that they don’t want to do business with her?_

_How will that impact the work they’re trying to do?_

_She sighs softly, licking her lips as Rio leans up out of the corner of her eye. She remains unmoving, even when he reaches for her and takes her hand. He tugs until she moves forward, a slight pout to her lips as he forces her legs apart and Beth straddles his lap, her knees digging into the cushions of the couch._

_He hooks a finger under her chin so that she’ll look at him, his thumb running over her lower lip. “I told them about our business and the work you do, it doesn’t matter what you look like.”_

_She swallows down words on her tongue because_ how _can he not think that? Of course it matters, despite her not wanting it to._

_“That don’t work for someone? We make other deals. It’s as simple as that.” He leans up, forcing her body to slide further into his, a soft sigh leaving her lips as their bodies connect. “’Aight?”_

_Beth closes her eyes for a moment before nodding, letting him draw her into a kiss._

But tonight? This feels like too purposeful to be a coincidence. She gets that things happen, that meetings go sideways, that not everything is always going to go according to plan—but she’s starting to feel a little bit like she can’t get anything right without her partner.

Beth _detests_ the idea that she needs someone to hold her hand through this; not when she’s been working so hard on making a name for herself.

She sighs, running a hand through her messy curls as she throws back another bourbon. She knows she should take a break, order a water or something, but she can always Uber home and the liquor feels like liquid heat in her veins. It’s comforting to say the least.

“Another, please.” She puts some cash on the bar to get the bartender’s attention and he scoops up the bills easily before pouring her another fingerful.

She closes her eyes a moment, running a hand down her face to still the dizziness because she at least has to have enough dignity to walk out of here with her head held high. She goes still for a moment, her body recognizing his own without having to see him as he slides onto the bar stool next to her.

Beth swallows, takes in another deep breath and instantly catches the familiar cedar of his cologne, laundry detergent and hints of his skin; things that usually bring her comfort. She removes her hand and puts it on her glass, turning it slightly so it makes a sound against the wood.

Not tonight.

“Think you’ve had enough?”

She laughs gently and licks her lips, not turning to look at him even though she can see his hands splayed out on the bar countertop. “What’s enough?” Beth eventually glimpses in his direction, Rio giving her a stern gaze in return but she knows him; there’s concern resting just below the surface. “What are you doing here? I know I’m not that far gone to have called you.”

He inches forward in the bar seat, tapping his fingers against the wood a little absently. He attempts to angle his body towards her even though she’s so closed off; a weak part of her wants to lean in and press her face into his shoulder, call it a night. She knows he’d run his fingers through her hair, take her home, maybe tuck her into bed, talk to her when she’s more sober and not as volatile.

But sometimes they’re both the worst when deciding to have a conversation and Beth _also_ knows that if she pushes him, he’ll have it out right here and now. That’s the downside of time, of trust; they know one another’s buttons to press.

“That’s never stopped you before.” He mentions dryly, clearly referring to all the other drunk phone calls he’s had to deal with in the past. Beth bites her tongue on a heated reply that sounds rather childish as it plays back in her head _you don’t have to deal with me if you don’t want to,_ but settles for rolling her eyes instead.

“This is one of our spots isn’t it?” He asks, his hand motioning to the space around her and maybe he’s right. Maybe she came here on purpose because it _is_ somewhere they’ve gone before to celebrate, to get drunk and have sex in the back of his car, to just _enjoy_ one another’s company—even when a job goes sour. Maybe she came here because she knows someone would recognize her and call him; that he’d find her.

“Aviles saw you comin’ a mile away.” He tilts his head towards the door and she sees Aviles wave to her before he puts his beanie on and makes his way out.

“Traitor,” She mumbles under her breath, “Thought we were past having your boys spy on me.” That’s a low blow, she knows that, but irritation is blooming under her skin so fast and so heatedly that it feels like bugs are skittering on top of her veins.

“Don’t even start,” Rio warns, moving to take her glass from her but she slides it further down the bar and out of his reach, “What’re _you_ doin’ here?” He throws her words back at her, waiting for her to start tearing apart at the seams.

She holds herself together, won’t give him the satisfaction, “I’m having a drink, what does it look like?”

He sighs softly, “It looks like you’re upset.” Rio pauses, like it might be just the opening she needs admit what’s wrong and she knows she’s being stubborn, but she’s already tried to talk to him about this. So she digs her heels in, giving him a look that has him pursing his lips, “What’s wrong mama?”

Beth senses the role reversal like a tidal wave; the knee-jerk reaction to shut him out when she’s usually the one trying to get him to talk through what’s going on inside his head. His tongue curls around the familiar nickname and part of her wants nothing more than to allow it to coax her out of the general funk she’s stuck in—but she’s already a few drinks in and her negative emotions are stronger than her feelings for him.

“Nothing,” Beth waves down the bartender, “Like I said, I’m having a drink. What, I can’t do that without your permission?”

“Why don’t you slow down.” It’s not a question and his voice is too gentle.

She takes another long sip of the bourbon she still has, making sure to connect eyes with him as she dumps it back into her throat. It’s only a matter of time before he’ll refuse to put up with the petulant behavior. Beth sees the expression on his face change almost instantly, his jaw clenching with barely restrained frustration.

As the bartender comes over, Rio slams a 100 dollar bill onto the bar before he can pour her another drink, “Water; you don’t serve her anythin’ else.” The guy’s eyes widen at the cash and he quickly picks it up before Rio can somehow change his mind.

Anger boils under her skin like a tea kettle, steam practically coming out of her ears. “What is your problem?” She snaps even though heavy emotion is quickly wrapping around her windpipe, making her voice shaky.

His hand comes down onto hers while she attempts to lift her glass—she’s not sure why he stops her, its annoyingly empty. “My problem? Other than you bein’ a pain in the ass right now?” The bartender brings her a glass of water and Rio straightens his posture like it might ground what he’s about to say. He inches the glass towards her even though all she does is glare at it. “My problem is that somethin’ clearly happened and you didn’t call me.”

Well, he’s got her there.

What does he want her to say? She’s not going to run to him everytime she has a problem and yeah, she may be moping now but that doesn’t mean she’s not going to start tomorrow out fresh and try all over again. Beth has to know she can do some of this by herself, she can’t have Rio step in when things go South—Dean used to do that and it drove her _crazy,_ not even to mention he always seemed to make things worse.

She picks up the glass of water and takes a greedy sip before she pushes her stool back from the bar and stands, which she knows is a bad idea, and yet she does it anyways. Dizziness hits her like a riptide, pulling her legs and almost making her stumble back onto the floor. Rio reaches for her but she smacks his arm away, deciding that she’s going to walk outside and get an Uber home.

She’s done with tonight and she’s over this conversation.

Beth can feel him follow her right out of the bar as she digs in her purse for her phone, swaying on her feet. Keys, wallet…it’s gotta be in here somewhere. He comes up beside her and tries to take her elbow,

“Let me take you home.”

“No,” She shrugs him off, the action enough to send her stumbling off the curb. “Just leave. Leave me alone. I can get home by myself.”

Rio looks up to the sky like he might actually need a moment to control his temper, a hand running over the lower half of his face. He tries again, “You aware of the speech you’d be givin’ me right now if this was me?” He grabs her arm while she’s distracted, still looking in her purse, but she wrestles herself free when she manages to find her phone. “Where’s that ‘partner’ talk now?” His voice is a little nasty or maybe she’s drunk, she’s not sure but the word _partner_ hits her raw and exposed nerve like a knife.

She takes a step back, tripping over the curb. “Well maybe I need to do something on my own for a change!” She yells, dropping her phone and successfully landing on her ass. Beth definitely bruises her tailbone and scrapes the palms of her hands as she tries to catch herself, sitting on the pavement and refusing to get up.

She brings her legs out in front of her, knocking the heels of her boots into the ground with a frustrated noise. Rio hovers for a few moments, letting out a slow sigh before crouching in front of her.

He doesn’t touch her though, seems to know better as his temper recedes, his fingers lacing together in front of him as he rests his elbows on his knees.

“Don’t help me.” She warns and points a finger at him, her voice hiccupping—she’s pretty sure it’s from the bourbon and not because she’s upset.

“I’m not doing anythin’.” He says softly, putting his hands up in mock surrender for a moment. Rio watches her, tries to wait for her to talk because he can sense that her walls have come down. Beth puts her hands over her face a moment, trying to concentrate on breathing in through her nose so the dizziness goes away.

“This about Crane?”

She swallows, her hands slipping down to the ground again so she can grab her phone and put it in her purse. She’s pleased that the screen hasn’t cracked, at least. Her silence seems to be enough of a response for him.

“He refuse to work with you?”

She draws her lower lip into her mouth and bites, hard, trying not to do something as stupid as cry. Her face is scrunching up though, she can feel it, more frustrated and drunk than anything else but the tears come nonetheless. He should know better by now; she’s told him that she’s one out of two types of drunk—either she’s giddy and snuggly or her emotions are a thousand times what they’re supposed to be.

He sighs softly and reaches for her, “C’mon, c’mere.”

Rio wraps his hands around her arms and helps her up, drawing her into his chest before she has a chance to step away. She feels her eyes close, succumbing to his scent wrapping around her like a blanket. Beth presses her face into his shoulder, breathing him in, his one hand winding itself in her hair while the other trails up and down her spine.

She slips her arms up and under the black jean jacket he has on to feel the muscles of his back, her fingers holding onto the fabric a few moments to ground herself. She pulls back when she’s certain she’s done letting her feelings completely engulf her, sniffling when he curls her hair around her ear.

“You gonna let me take you home now?”

Beth huffs out a noise but nods. She winces as pain crawls up her spine and radiates into her hips, lips slightly pouting. “Ow.”

He smirks gently, wrapping an arm around her waist and rubbing his thumb over her lower back. “I know.” She allows him to take her bag and starts walking to his car.

\--

Rio takes Beth back to his loft and she barely crawls into bed, shoes on and all, before she falls asleep.

\--

Her headache is the thing that wakes her, pinching along her temples and pounding into the forefront of her concentration. She groans slightly and hides her face in her pillow, a hand working its way into her hair as she begins to move.

“Just leave me alone to die.” She mumbles and Rio must understand some of it because he chuckles.

“Yeah, thought you might say that. I got coffee.” She perks a little at the idea and when she pulls her face away, squinty eyes and all, Rio and a mug with steam curling out comes into view. He pulled the blinds closed at least, so the sun isn’t assaulting her, but her entire body hurts like she got hit with a truck. “Also Advil for that little pavement hit you took last night.”

“I’m not going to tell you you’re amazing because I’ll never live it down.” She croaks, moving to at least sit against the headboard. When she stops moving she feels better, taking the mug into her hands and wrapping her fingers around it.

Rio’s fully dressed; a pair of black jeans and a white Henley with sleeves rolled up to his elbows. “Wouldn’t want that.” He smiles, his hand resting on her knee above the covers.

Beth sighs, her head tipping back until it’s resting on the headboard. “What time is it?”

He takes his phone out of his pocket, “Little after one.”

“You let me sleep that long?” Her eyes widen, a sip of her coffee nearly going down the wrong pipe.

He scoffs and puts his phone back, squeezing her knee, “I know exactly what _not_ to do when you’re hungover.” And takes her coffee cup to take a sip just because he can, “There’s a meeting we gotta go to, can you be ready in a half n hour?”

Her eyebrows crinkle together because she doesn’t remember anything else scheduled for today after the whole Crane debacle. She just assumed he’d want to spend the day lying low, maybe figure out another plan of action of what to do with the cash that they still have to wash.

“Sure.” She nods and he presses a kiss to her temple before he gets up, handing her back the coffee mug.

Beth watches him move around the apartment, leaning back into the pillows and warmth of his comforter, not getting up out of bed until she has to.

\--

Rio drives them back to the bar, and for a moment she thinks it’s because she left her car here, but then he’s turning off the engine and motioning towards the front door. They’re going inside?

“Didn’t you have enough last night?” She asks, a soft tilt to her voice that tells him she’s joking.

He smiles, just a little, before, “We’re not here to drink.” And gets out of the car.

Beth frowns, chewing on her lower lip before she lets out a long sigh and gets out too, pulling her shirt down over her jeans. She wishes she would have had something else to put on—the last thing she wanted to do was pull on her clothes from last night. She makes mental checklists to do more laundry and bring a few things over Rio’s loft to keep in his closet.

Rio holds the door to the bar open for her to walk in, Aviles in the corner of the entrance with a smile that feels welcoming. It takes her longer than it should to realize a few things: the bar is completely empty except for the three of them and one other man—tied to a chair, a gag in his mouth, bloody cuts along his face and neck.

The man’s eyes widen as he recognizes her and she—she _knows_ who he is too. Her mouth falls open as the door closes behind them, Joe Crane making muffled arguing against his gag. She whirls around to look at Rio, who’s leaning against the door, staring right back at her like he’s given her a gift wrapped up in a bloody bow.

“What’s going on?”

His eyes tick over to Crane, who hasn’t stopped talking, high-pitched mumbling that she can’t make out over the gag. “What’s it look like?” He leans up off the door and grabs a chair, dragging it right in front of Crane, “A business meeting.”

Rio then shifts to grab something Aviles is holding out for him and a panicked shot of heat travels directly to her knees when she sees silver glinting against the ceiling lights.

“Rio,” She says quickly, not sure what direction this is heading but all her thoughts are slamming against the inside of her head at once. That, mixed with her hangover, makes the room feel like it’s moving in slow motion.

He sits directly in front of Crane, the knife he has making the gagged man whine and buck in his seat against his constraints. She hears the chair skid nosily across the floor Rio’s hand comes down, fast and rough, to squeeze until he stops moving.

“None of that,” He says calmly, like he’s talking about the weather or telling Marcus why he shouldn’t jump on the bed. “So here’s the thing. My partner tells me that you had a problem working with her.”

“ _Mm-mm_!” She’s not sure whether that’s a confirmation or a denial, but her knees are shaking and she doesn’t want to know. Beth finds herself gravitating towards the scene unfolding in front of her, taking a look back at Aviles before she watches Rio turn the knife in his hand.

“Oh so there wasn’t a problem?” Rio asks, amusement lighting his tone but Beth knows better.

Here’s the thing about Rio; there’s violence in his gaze and in his touch, death capable of blooming between his fingertips. It underlies everything that he does, everything that he says, becomes a part of him in a way she doesn’t want to know or understand. This? It’s like breathing, holding a blade that could take a life away just as easy as Crane refusing to work with Beth in the first place.

What’s it say about her…that she’s willing to stand here? To allow him to make such a demonstration for her? That despite wanting to stand up for herself, to be able to do things on her own, that she’d _let_ him defend her even if it looked like this.

Crane’s wild eyes look up to her, making a series of noises that she can’t make out. He looks back to Rio, who’s purposely dragging this conversation out, just because he can. His stature as he stands is menacing, towering over Crane to cut the gag off.

“You wanna tell her what you told me?”

The man sputters, coughing when the gag falls free, taking a ragged breath into his lungs as Rio settles back into his chair and just…watches. Aviles is nearby, still in his seat, but out of the corner of her eye she can see him absently drinking coffee. The fact that this is all business as usual slams directly into her stomach.

And yet, she still stands there, waiting.

“I…I was wrong. I’m…” He swallows, eyes flickering between Rio and Beth. “There won’t be any more problems. Meetings are yours to handle.”

Rio nods slowly, hand coming down on the guy’s leg like he just told a decent joke. “Good, that’s real good, Joe. Glad we’re all on the same page again.”

He stands and drags the chair away, motioning for Aviles to haul Crane out of his chair and take him outside. They leave Rio to rub a fabric napkin over the blade he had in his hand and for Beth to stand there—staring at the empty chair.

It’s quiet and he turns after a moment to look at her, leaning against the bar. His eyes graze over her form, waiting, fingers playing with the tip of the knife as he cleans it.

“Am I supposed to thank you?” She asks, unsure of what to say.

She’s not angry but she’s not thrilled either. There’s conflicting emotions slipping in-between her ribs—she should be disgusted with his display of strong-arming someone into working with her, of his violence…and yet. There’s something _else_ working its way up the center of her chest, a warmth that she doesn’t want to identify with because she’s touched that he’s looking out for her like a partner should.

“Nah,” He takes her hand and she almost tugs away out of instinct, his fingers using hers to close the switchblade. “Would have done it anyways.”

Beth swallows, glancing down at the knife that’s carefully folded away again. She knows he means for her to keep it, to put it in her purse with the gun that’s still there, safety on even though there’s no bullets in it.

“I don’t need you to fight my battles for me.” She says after a moment, holding his gaze as she puts the blade in her back pocket.

Rio nods softly, eyes appraising her, drinking her in to the point where she nearly feels empty. He takes a step forward and curls her hair around her ear, thumb purposely dragging along her jawline.

“I know exactly what you’re capable of,” He says after a moment, “But we’re partners; what happens with you has an impact on our business. People need to understand that.”

Beth tries to read between his words; is it really about being partners or is it because his hands are already dirty…and he doesn’t want her to become more like him? Either way, she pauses before leaning up to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

She hears a sharp intake of his breath before he turns his head, moving to capture her lips more properly, his hand sliding behind her neck to deepen it.

“Next time,” She whispers, nipping at his lower lip with her teeth. “Let me take care of it.”

He smiles softly and nods, backing her up against the bar to kiss her again.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! always around blainesebastian.tumblr.com/ask ready to chat about the disaster babies that are brio or accept prompts!


End file.
